


The Long Summer

by deedreamer



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben plays the bass guitar, Ben's the boy next door, F/M, Flirting, Music, Prompt Fic, Rey and Poe are siblings, Sexting, Skinny Dipping, Summer, Summer Fic, The boys have a garage band, except now he's home from college and he's a man, older brother's best friend, pools, sexy music
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-03-06 14:59:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18853411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedreamer/pseuds/deedreamer
Summary: He’s Rey's older brother's best friend. He watched her grow up and still teases her mercilessly. It's summer break, and the heat finally gets to Rey as she works up the nerve to flirt with Ben Solo -- the boy she grew up with who's quite suddenly become a man. Soon, she's skinny dipping, swapping secret dirty texts, and thinking all kinds of insane thoughts. And then one day, Ben sends Rey a picture of his perfect, huge...Whoa. Damn, boy. DAMN!Now, Rey can think of nothing else but getting her mouth on him. EVERYWHERE.





	1. Enjoy the Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msdes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdes/gifts).



> Thank you to the fabulous @msdes for the Twitter prompt that spoke to my soul, and for gifting me the most amazing mood board for this little adventure. THANK YOU for letting me play in your universe, Desiree! <3
> 
> Story inspired by this amazing tweet. 

 

“Incoming!”

Rey hears the obnoxious shout over the music streaming through her earbuds, but by then it’s far too late. Cold water sprays all over her bare back, every inch from her shoulders down to her calves are doused as goosebumps breakout all over her sun-hot skin.

“Ben!” she shrieks, tearing out her earbuds and turning to glare over her shoulder just as a dark head of hair emerges from the pool’s surface, a lopsided grin peeking out from beneath the messy mop plastered over his shining, mischievous eyes. 

One giant palm swipes the hair back from his forehead. The half-grin stays firmly in place as he shrugs his massive, dripping shoulders. “Oops.”

“God, you are _such_ an asshole,” Rey mutters as she pushes up awkwardly, knowing full-well that in order to get up from the lounge laying on her belly she has to come up on all fours, momentarily giving her older brother’s best friend -- and royal pain in the ass -- a perfect view of… well,  _ her _ ass. Rey moves quickly and sits back down on the towel-covered lounge, glaring at the hulking body in the center of the pool.

“What?” he asks, false-innocence dripping from his tongue as he quirks an eyebrow at her. He raises his hand to block the sun’s glare. “You looked hot. I was cooling you off.”

Behind her sunglasses, Rey rolls her eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling super exposed in her bikini. Something about the words  _ you looked hot _ coming out of Ben’s mouth draws a reaction from her. Her skin prickles, and she feels her nipples tighten beneath the scrap of material that makes up her triangle top. 

“Bite me,” she mumbles weakly before grabbing her book and lowering back down, using it to shield her face from the grinning boy in the pool.

“It’s gonna be a long-ass summer if you two keep it up.” 

Rey glances over to see her older brother approach, tossing his towel on the chaise next to hers his sunglasses quickly following. She watches as Poe kicks off his flip-flops and takes three long strides toward the middle of the pool before his body curves into a perfect arc as he dives toward the deep end.

Poe’s dark curls emerge from the water’s surface and he shakes his head once, sending water flying nearly to where Rey is lounging. “He started it,” Rey mutters. She hears herself and realizes how childish she sounds.

Now it’s Poe’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, and knowing you, you’ll probably finish it. Now get in damn pool, Rey. It’s a bajillion degrees out.”

Her brother is right. It’s barely eleven-thirty in the morning and the thermometer is already creeping past ninety-two degrees. It’ll be a scorcher. Taking a dip  _ does _ sound refreshing after the twenty minutes she’s been out lounging before the boys emerged from the house. She shrugs, sliding her bookmark in place and slipping her sunglasses off her face. “Okay.”

She knows with the way her skin is heated, she’ll need to jump in all at once. Wading in from the shallow end would be pure torture. Just the thought of the cool water lapping at her bare belly gives her the shivers. So she stands and walks to the deep end before mimicking her brother’s move, pressing off the concrete edge into a perfect, effortless dive. She swims beneath the surface until she’s skimming up her brother’s back, then wrapping her arms around his bronze shoulders as she climbs his back like a monkey.

“I’m glad we’re both home now, bro,” she says with a smile as Poe pats her forearms. Her college had finished the semester a week earlier than Poe and Ben’s state university, and the week home alone had been boring as hell.

“Me too,” he replies with a grin. “But get the hell off of me, your tits are freezing on my back.” Poe spins and shoves Rey off of him, pushing her into the water and toward Ben.

“Hey!” she objects, her cheeks flaming at the mention of her boobs in front of Ben.

It’s not like it hasn’t happened before -- Ben and Poe have been best friends for far too long for  _ anything _ to be sacred anymore -- but Rey still feels a flicker of self-consciousness. After all, Ben’s known her since long before she had any boobs at all. Since she had a gap in her teeth and the years of braces to fix it… since she wore pigtails in her hair instead of messy buns.

“Go climb on Ben. He’s a fucking tree anyway.” Poe dives under the surface, swimming effortlessly underwater toward the shallow end, leaving Rey staring slack-jawed at Ben. Ben, with the Cheshire grin.

“C’mon, Rabies,” Ben says, using his insulting childhood nickname for her in a silly voice as he pats his shoulders. His grin turns wolfish as his dark eyes brighten beneath the glaring sun. “I’ll give you a ride.”

The double meaning isn’t lost on her, and she knows Ben is just teasing her mercilessly the same way he’s done for the last fifteen years, when she was four and Poe was seven and they moved next door to the Solos. The two boys became inseparable immediately, and since Ben was an only child and his parents’ jobs had them traveling over half of the year, Ben became a fixture in the Dameron household. But now that she’s nineteen and Ben just turned twenty-two last month, things are… different.

Rey shoves a wave of water at Ben’s face and he giggles, swiping his fingers across his eyes to clear them. “C’mon,” he says, turning to put his massive back toward her. “I’ll be your taxi to the shallow end. Like always.”

Hesitating for a moment, Rey can’t decide if she should wrap her arms around his broad shoulders and let him ferry her to the other end of the pool the same way he’s done countless times since they were kids, or if she should jump out of the pool and run far, far away. Because her skin itches and her pulse has kicked up to something like a tribal drumbeat and saliva is gathering in her mouth.

But her hands slide in the water before her without her brain's consent, her fingertips skimming the taut skin across Ben's shoulders. He’s pale and she knows he’ll burn to a crisp beneath this sun before a sheen of freckles will emerge on golden skin. Rey knows this because she’s seen it happen year after year, just as she knows the feel of the smooth skin of his back brushing against her belly as he begins to swim to the shallow end with her holding on to his shoulders.

Except this time, something’s different. Ben doesn’t feel like the boy she grew up with. Poe’s right: sometime over their junior year, Ben’s body has changed -- muscles and sinew emerging where long, lanky limbs had once been. Between her slim thumbs, Ben’s neck feels thicker. Beneath her palms, his traps feel massive.

Now, he’s a man now.

And as Ben deposits her on the steps at the shallow end of the pool with a toothy grin, Rey’s never felt more like a girl. A girl with a sudden, helpless crush on her older brother’s best friend.

Poe’s right. It’s going to be a long-ass summer.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Are you guys seriously trying to get the band back together?” Rey asks, staring at the drum kit Poe hauled up from the basement into the garage. 

“Why the hell not?” he replies, rolling out an old rug over the center of the concrete floor, covering the electrical cords trailing to the amps. “We’re all just working part time this summer, and next year we graduate. When else are we gonna get to play together again?”

Rey watches her brother situate the stool behind the kit. He sits and grabs the sticks, gently drumming before doing a little run on the cymbals.

“Just like old times.” His voice is deep, its baritone thrumming behind her. Slowly, Rey turns to see Ben looming at the entrance to the garage, his guitar case in hand. “Where’s the couch?”

Poe stands from the drums. “Did you think I was going to move it up from the basement all by myself? I was waiting for you, muscles.” Poe runs his hand through his dark curls, wiping sweat from his brow. They’ll need to get some fans set up in here if they have any hope of surviving the summer. Rey watches as her brother looks around, cocking his head to the side. “Anyway, do we really need the couch?”

“Of course we need the couch,” Ben bellows as he steps further into the garage and sets down his guitar case. He stands and flings his tree-limb arms out, nearly bumping into Rey where she stands sweating like it's her job. “Where’s Rabies gonna sit?”

She's heard the nickname so many times over so many years, she hears it and remains completely nonplussed. Instead she just blinks, raising her brows in curiosity as the boys talk about her like she’s not even there.  

“I could, um, just sit in a chair?”

Ben whips his head over his shoulder and stares at her. “Bullshit. Finn's drums go there,” he says, pointing to where Poe has set up the kit, “you go here,” he points to the left, “And I go right there,” he says, pointing to the ground a few feet to his right. Then, he points to an empty spot on the far wall of the garage. “And Rey’s couch goes there.”

Poe laughs, shaking his head. “Man, you're a creature of habit, you know that?”

“No. I’m just  _ right _ ,” Ben mumbles. “Let’s go get the couch.”

Rey watches them leave, walking along the side of the house toward the walk-out basement door, heads bowed toward one another deep in discussion. She wonders why she feels like she just downed a triple shot of espresso. Yet another drop of sweat slips from between her breasts and rolls down her abdomen to pool in her belly button.

She’d better go find those damn fans.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been three days since they set up the garage and Rey has yet to see the boys play. She’s been working at the bookstore the last two afternoons, and shortly after they got the couch moved up from the basement Poe got called in to cover another lifeguard’s shift at the rec center.  But now, Rey’s home for the night and towel-drying her hair, all fresh from the shower, when she hears the unmistakable thumping of drums echo through the drywall. She runs a brush through her tresses and grins at her reflection in the dresser mirror as a giddy excitement settles in her chest. 

She dresses quickly in a t-shirt and cutoffs before heading downstairs, stopping in the kitchen to pour herself a glass of sweet tea. The deep resonance of a bass guitar reverberates from the other side of the kitchen door, followed by a quick guitar riff. Rey schools her grin and heads out into the garage, unsurprised to see not just two, but  _ three _ boys at their spots, instruments in hand.

“Hey, Rey!” Finn calls over from behind his drum set, eyes bright. “Just like old times, huh?”

“What a time warp!” Rey says with a giggle as she flops down on the old tweed couch. It’s orange and brown and hideous and it itches like the dickens, but it’s tradition—so she sits and curls her legs beneath her. “Seriously, Finny. Have you guys aged a day beyond fifteen?” She asks, teasing them good-naturedly.

“Poe had zits all over his face at fifteen,” Ben states, not missing a beat.

Laughing and shaking his head, Poe retaliates. “And you were a lanky beanpole with a permanent scowl, Solo.” He widens his eyes and taps his chin. “Oh, wait! You still are!”

Finn drums out a classic zinger’s  _ buh-dum-shah _ on the drums and cymbals. “Oooh,” he says, wrinkling his nose, “ _ sick _ burn!”

“See?” Poe exclaims, pointing at Ben with his left hand. “He  _ is _ a scowling son of a bitch!”

Ben rolls his eyes and his lips twitch as he fights a grin. “Kiss my ass, Dameron.”

Poe snickers. “Um, hairy. No, thank you.”

Rey almost chokes on her sip of iced tea. She’s coughing, shocked by the image of what Poe just said as it crosses her mind, creating a visual she was  _ not  _ expecting.

“You okay there Rey?” Poe asks, smirking.

Nodding, Rey wipes a dribble of tea from her chin. She feels her cheeks flame. She’s a moron. “Fine, fine.”

Finn taps his sticks on the snare. “So, shall we do this boys?”

“Hell, yes,” Poe says with a nod before glancing over each of his shoulders in turn as he asks, “Some old school DMB?”

And then Finn’s counting out the intro and Poe’s strumming, and Rey’s taken back to the simmering emotions and excitement of her twelve year old body’s puberty prison. Their music is languid and mellow as the sound seeps from the amps.

At first, it feels like nothing’s changed.

She still gets a ripple of excitement deep in her abdomen when the boys play, as if the music is tethered to her very soul. She still watches her brother strum the chords on his guitar, effortlessly tapping his foot as his black curls bounce to the beat. She still loves the way her heart beats like the very kick drum Finn’s working, the way the percussion works through her, making her head move just like Poe’s.

And then the sensual, deep bass of Ben’s powerful fingers begin plucking his strings, working in tandem with Finn’s drumming to set the groove, and, good God, she wants to scream  _ yes _ ! It’s like no time has passed at all. Rey still watches Ben Solo as his fingers work the neck of his bass, rooting the trio’s music in something equally fathomless and vital.

She watches his forearm flex, the veins on the top of his hand popping and her mouth waters. She feels the bass in her belly, between her legs.

It’s a heartbeat.

And then, Rey realizes  _ everything  _ has changed.

This goes on for a full hour, each minute ticking away with another drop of sweat dripping beneath her breast. She sips what's left of her tea and tries to keep the blush from her cheeks, despite the way her eyes are stuck on Ben. The humid heat of the summer night as it slips into the garage like a fog certainly isn't helping. Rey’s sticky, her skin damp and itchy against the tweed. She’s uncomfortable and feeling awkward and yet there's not enough money in the world a living soul could pay her to move off that fucking couch.

She’s pulled from her stupor as a song ends and Finn speaks. “I gotta go, guys. I have work at the golf course like, before sunrise.”

“Yeah,” Poe agrees with a heavy sigh. “I’m opening the pool tomorrow.”

Ben lifts his head and squints at Poe, then Finn. “Dude,” he says to no one in particular, “that sucks.”

A few minutes pass and suddenly, goodnights are said and it’s just Rey and Ben left. He’s packing up his bass as Rey switches on the old radio, eager for something to fill the awkward silence that hangs heavy between them. Or is it just her? Maybe she’s imaging it. Maybe Ben doesn’t feel it at all. Maybe Ben doesn’t even remember she’s still in the garage with him.

The radio tunes and it’s set to the local rock station. Rey catches the last of the deejay announcing the Thursday night retro new-wave playlist. Then electronic keyboards kick in, and Rey squeals. “God this song is a classic!" She shakes her head, giving Ben a shy smile. "Half the kids at my school wouldn’t even know who this was. It’s a travesty.”

Ben shakes his shaggy hair from his face and looks up at her. “Well, it  _ is _ pretty old.”

“It’s as old as I am, you turd,” Rey counters with a giggle. “They released it in 1990. Besides,” she says, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him, “those Dave Matthews songs you guys jammed to aren’t much newer, you know.”

He grins. “I know. But you were always way more into emo rock and synth stuff.” He locks his case and then stands, walking over to the wall to grab Poe’s old skateboard off the wall hooks. The light is dim, the overheads in the garage off now that they’re shutting down for the night. There’s only a corner lamp lighting the space with a dim, yellow glow.

Ben places the board at his feet and steps on, balancing his giant, tree-like body with a long-practiced, smooth ease. He starts to distractedly hum along to the song’s chorus as he shimmies and rocks on the old skateboard, his deep baritone echoing in the almost empty space.

Gooseflesh. It’s on every inch of Rey’s skin. 

Her pulse quickens. Something thrums deep in her center -- like a heartbeat -- the same way the sonorous rhythm of Ben’s bass had her feeling earlier. The sensation is heady, thick like syrup, and Rey almost feels intoxicated by the way her body is responding to his voice.

Ben doesn’t sing with the band. Ever. Not even backup harmony to Poe; it’s always Finn.

The sound of his baritone is practically profound. Rey’s throat tightens and her mouth goes dry. She averts her eyes, staring down at her flip-flop feet because she can’t stand the thought of him noticing the effect he’s having on her right now in this moment.

The song ends and she forces down a swallow wishing for more iced tea. Another song begins. Ben doesn’t sing, just furrows his brow and stares at his Converse as he rocks on the skateboard. She can’t help but feel like he wants to say something? It’s awkward again, but Rey finds that the crazed spell is thankfully broken.

She takes a deep breath and decides a joke is the only thing that can alleviate the haze of tension hanging between them. “Is your ass really hairy?”

Ben doesn’t miss a beat. He flicks his gaze to her and answers without hesitation, completely deadpan. “No. It’s smooth, like a newborn baby’s.”

Rey bites her bottom lip as she grins, trying not to crack up. “Hmm. Prove it.”

“What?” Ben scoffs, “You want me to drop trou, right here?”

This time, she can’t hold in her grin or her laugh. She giggles and asks, “And what if I did?”

He steps off the skateboard, popping it up with the toe of one foot and catching the lip in his palm. “I’d say I’m in if you’re in.”

“Well,  _ my _ ass certainly isn’t hairy!”

“I’m sure it’s like porcelain. But if I’m taking off my pants, so are you.”

Rey’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Since when?”

“Since forever,” Ben replies with a shrug and a smirk. “Those are just the rules, Rey.”

“Okay,” she says with a nod. She watches as his eyes go wide in surprise at her boldness. “Let’s go skinny dip.”

Ben shakes his head, a little grin still tugging at his lips. “It’s dark. You won’t be able to see a thing.”

“So? It’ll be playing by the rules. And anyway,  _ I  _ have very good eyesight.”

Two minutes later, they’ve snuck through the damp grass around the side of the house. Their feet are silent on the pool deck, the water still and lit only by a pale sliver of the moon. Rey goes to the far corner, near the deep end. Ben sticks to the shallow end and chooses the corner on the diagonal. They face each other in the shadows, the dark pool an unknown chasm between them.

The silence is thick, but unlike when they were in the garage, it’s no longer awkward. Instead, the pool acts almost as a whisper dish, transmitting the smallest of sounds over the water’s surface. Rey can hear Ben’s rhythmic breaths as he eyes her in silence, giving her one last out.

Since her t-shirt is so long, Rey decides to send a clear message by shoving her panties and cutoffs down and off her ankles, letting the shirt cover her modesty. She kicks the clothes to the side, cocking her hip, and looks at Ben expectantly.

To his credit, Ben doesn’t hesitate. She watches as his arms cross in front of his waist and grab the hem of his black t-shirt. He pulls it up and over, exposing his massive torso. Even from her spot across the pool from him, Rey can see his pec muscles twitch. Maybe it’s from the heat of her gaze, or maybe it’s simply from the warm night air. The shirt collar slips over his head, further messing his already unruly dark locks. Then, he pivots, turning his broad back to her as he pushes his gym shorts and boxers down and off. In the moonlight, Rey can easily see the dimples above his ass sitting above his low back, and white skin below resembles perfectly sculpted marble more than anything else.

Definitely not hairy.

Rey sees Ben reach around to cup his junk before he turns and jumps feet first into the water. He emerges and shakes out his hair like a dog. He squints up at her, now standing in the middle of the pool. “Did you bring your night vision goggles?”

Rey grins before she takes Ben’s lead and turns, putting her back to him as she pulls her t-shirt up over her head. Her bralette is next, adding to the pile now forming on the deck. She crosses her arms over as much of her bits as possible before curling into a ball and jumping into the deep end, eager for full cover. 

When she breaks the surface, Rey’s only about five feet away from Ben, treading water though he’s tall enough to reach the bottom and still stand. She gives him a mischievous smile before answering his question. “Don’t need ‘em”

Ben’s lips twitch right before his cheeks pull into a gleeful smile, equally devilish. “Yeah, me either.”


	2. Burnin' for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a holiday miracle! Sorry this update took an eternity.
> 
> Here's a little heat for you this holiday season. xo

 

“Dude,” Poe says, stopping short as he enters the kitchen and takes a long look at Ben, “you look like a tomato.”

Ben would flick him off, but moving any inch of his skin sends an aching pain like his skin is too small for his gargantuan body, so he stays put and settles for a mild sneer. “Thanks, asshole. Nice to see you, too.”

“What?” Poe asks with a chuckle as he steps further into the room, making a beeline for the kitchen. “I’m not the idiot who let himself get burnt to a crisp.” His friend pulls out a can of soda and pops the top before taking a long sip, followed by a longer belch.

“Classy, bro,” Rey admonishes as she comes in from the living room, her arms laden with an assortment of bottles and towels. “Okay!” she says, directing her gaze to Ben, her tone all-business. “I’ve got a washcloth for a cool compress, ibuprofen for the swelling and pain, and some aloe gel for…” she pauses and does a once-over of his face and equally sunburned chest with a wince, “well, for everything.”

“Thanks,” Ben mumbles, taking the ibuprofen bottle from her and using his massive thumb to line up the cap and pop it open.

“Okay, seriously,” Poe says, coming to stand on the other side of the island, staring at Ben. “How the hell did this happen? It’s not like you’re new here.”

It doesn’t seem possible, but Ben feels his face flush a shade deeper. He looks at his hands, busying himself with pouring tablets in his hand and plucking the extras out of his palm to drop back into the medicine bottle like he’s performing open heart surgery. “I fell asleep,” he mutters, keeping his eyes downcast.

“What was that?” Poe asks, tilting his head to the side as his miserable excuse for a best friend tries and fails to bury a smirk. “Did you say you fell asleep?”

“Yeah,” Ben says gruffly, nodding. “I couldn’t sleep last night and I came over here early in the morning to swim laps. Then I got out and finally conked out on the lounge and when I woke up around lunchtime, the damage was done.”

Poe purses his lips and widens his eyes. “Yeah, I’d say so, buddy.”

“Oh, shut up, Poe,” Rey scolds as she goes to wet the washcloth in the sink. “Like you’ve never done something stupid like that.”

“Hey! I resent that,” Ben objects before he hisses in pain. “Oh, God, it hurts to breathe.”

Poe shakes his head as he goes to the fridge and grabs another can of soda. He turns around and slides it across the island to Ben, a peace offering. “Look, I’m just saying, I’ve never been that burned in my whole damn life.”

“Well, look at you!” Rey says with a knowing grin. “You got Dad’s Cuban skin and get brown as a berry. This one, here,” she says as she shuts off the water and wrings out the washcloth, “looks better suited for the Siberian tundra.”

Ben huffs and looks out the window, avoiding eye contact with either of them. “I don’t know if I should be insulted or appreciative that you’re defending me,” he deadpans.

“Neither,” Poe says as Rey steps toward Ben, her slim hands folding the blue cloth into a rectangle. “You should just be quiet and let Rey get you lubed up.”

Ben and Rey simultaneously whip snap their gazes toward Poe, whose dark eyes are glittering with mischief. “What?” he asks, blinking with false innocence. “I meant the aloe there,” he says, pointing to the bottle of bright green goo on the counter. “Doesn’t poor Ben need to be just doused in that shit?”

“I don’t need to be doused in it,” Ben grumbles, praying his sunburn is enough to cover the deep blush he feels trailing up to the tips of his ears. “And besides, I can do it by myself.”

Poe gives Ben a lascivious grin. “Oh, I know you can, pal. You’ve had years of practice, Solo.”

Rey rolls her eyes at her brother’s stupid implication. But Ben knows his friend is absolutely correct and he’d been irreparably embarassed if Rey knew how much “solo” practice he’s had--both with and without lube.

“And on that note…” Poe announces as he heads toward the stairs, “I’m showering and then heading out to the bar. It’s karaoke night.”

“Oh, darn, I’m so sorry to miss that!” Ben calls out as Poe disappears upstairs.

Rey holds the washcloth out in front of Ben’s face. “Here you go.”

Ben grimaces. “What do I do with it?”

“You put it on your forehead. Here, let me show you,” she says, pressing the long rectangle against his overheated skin. It feels like heaven, the way the cool, damp cloth soothes the fire beneath the surface of his skin.

“Oh, God, that’s good,” Ben nearly moans. His eyes open and close lazily and he catches Rey’s eyes widen and then return to normal as her cheeks pinken right before him. She clears her throat and quickly steps back. The washcloth falls with a wet slap to the granite island. Ben blinks and looks down at it with a scowl.

“Oh, sorry,” Rey stammers, quickly turning away to walk to the fridge. “I guess you’ll have to hold it there.” Ben can’t help but get the feeling that she’s looking for an excuse to hide her face from him.

“S’okay,” he says softly. “Th-thanks,” he stammers, not really sure what to make of the maelstrom of confusing emotions flooding him like an incoming tide. The tension between them is thick. Sure, if Ben’s being honest, it’s been there for years, but nothing like the heavy, heady pressure he feels now, hanging over them like smog in the Dameron’s kitchen. Certainly, the flirtatious, semi-admissions of their potential mutual interest the other night in the pool didn’t loosen the thread that seems to have stretched between them since Ben was sixteen and Rey was a very tall, very mature looking thirteen year old.

But she’d been off-limits then, and he thinks she’s probably off-limits now. Beside the fact that Poe would murder him if he made a move, Ben’s not an idiot. Well, he is an idiot -- but despite that, he knows Poe and Rey and the entire Dameron family are his family, and risking that over a lingering teenage crush is one he’s not willing to take.

It doesn’t matter anyway, Ben thinks, as Rey busies herself with her back solidly to him, her nose buried in the fridge, nudging leftovers around like she’s mining for gold. Any vibe he picked up from Rey the other night screamed playful fun -- nothing like the soul-crushing yearning that’s been bottled up inside him for going on seven years. Rey’s nineteen and obviously, if she showed any interest in him at all, it’s more to scratch an itch than to build anything with him. She couldn’t possibly fall asleep at night fantasizing about building something with him the way he does, plagued by thoughts of her.

No -- he’s certain that, if anything, Rey is simply exploring her own sexuality. She’s testing boundaries, and Ben is more than happy to be the recipient of any scraps she wants to throw his way, but he’s the older, more mature one here. It’s up to him to keep things in check and ensure nothing goes too far. There’s too much at risk to push past a point of no return.

He clears his throat, decided. “You wanna watch a movie?” he asks, brows raised as Rey finally shuts the refrigerator door and turns to look at him. “I mean, there’s no way I’m sleeping anytime soon,” he adds with a shrug.

Rey mimics the motion. “Sure,” she agrees, a wicked grin blooming on her lips. “But I get to pick what we watch.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “What evil ploy have I fallen victim to?” he laments, schooling the grin he feels tugging at his own lips.

Rey clearly knows she’s teasing, because she pushes off from where she’s rested against the fridge, waggling her brows. “Oh, ‘evil’ is a great choice of words,” she starts, and as she speaks, Ben’s heart stutters and falters in his chest, because he suddenly, without a doubt, knows what’s coming. “Because we are watching a horror movie.”

“Ugh, haven’t I suffered enough here, as it is?” Ben whines, holding his arms out wide and pointing down at his hot-pink chest. Rey’s eyes flick down and he sees the whites of her eyes as she clamps her jaw shut and pointedly looks away, focusing her attention on the TV in the adjacent living room.

“C’mon, Ben, don’t be a big baby,” she says, flicking on the remote and scrolling through apps to Netflix.

“I’m not,” Ben pouts as he tries to stand up from the island stool. “Ouch, shit!” he hisses as the skin of his belly unsticks where it had touched as he sat, the burning stretch of his chest and abdomen as he moves making him feel like walking fire. “Jesus Christ, I’m incinerating from the inside, here.”

Rey glances back at him, sympathy apparent in her wide, hazel eyes. She purses her lips and says, “Alright, let me help you, for God’s sake.” She sets down the remote and marches back toward the island, reaching for the bottle of aloe. She flips open the lid and squeezes as a large dollop lands in her palm with a squelch. She cocks her head at him, considering. “Hold your arms away from your body,” she instructs, her eyes focused on his hot pink torso, “and just concentrate on breathing.”

Ben swallows. He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to concentrate on anything at all, what with the sheer pain he’s anticipating knowing something will be in contact with his damaged fire-skin, not to mention the fact that Rey will be touching his body and--

Oh… there she goes.

Her fingers, doused in the aloe gel, are cold like ice as she tentatively brushes above his left pec. Ben flinches and his body jerks at the sensation, wanting more of her hands on him but simultaneously wishing never to be touched by another human being again.

“Sorry,” Rey mumbles, brows furrowed.

“S’okay,” he replies, mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

Rey’s bent over the crown of her head nearly level with his torso as she squints and applies the gel with precision. This close, he can see every freckle on her nose and cheeks. He can see the tiny concentration lines around her beautiful brown-green-gray eyes. He can see the way her dark lashes fan over her cheeks every time she blinks. She’s an artist, working the aloe on her hands like paint on a fine, feathered brush. The contact stings, but for some unexpected and unexplained reason, the pain doesn’t even seem to register. All Ben can feel are Rey’s slim hands as she works the gel along his abdomen.

His muscles tense and shake beneath her touch, and Rey mistakes the reaction to pleasure and arousal for pain. “You’re doing great,” she murmurs, pausing to squeeze more gel in her palm. Without hesitation, she moves lower, slipping below his belly button to cover his low abs in the cooling goo, her fingers dangerously close to the quickly hardening bulge that’s scarily close to tenting his loose sweats. “Just breathe, nice and easy.”

Ben swallows thickly again. He takes Rey’s advice and sucks in a measured, deep breath. He closes his eyes and exhales through his nose just as slowly. Thankfully, her hands finish their job down by his waist and slip up to his shoulders. Her gel-covered fingers slip stickily over his collarbones and up to the knobs of his shoulders, fire and ice bleeding together in a sensation that’s inexplicably erotic given the level of pain he feels as she rubs on his branded, swollen skin.

“There, you did it. All done.” Ben’s eyelids flit open. Rey’s staring at him, a proud smile on her face. “Good boy.”

Her praise sends a shiver through his spine, down to his pelvis and back up again. He’s confused and speechless and hard as hell and he prays Rey’s not paying attention to what the fuck is going on in his crotch.

“Thanks,” he says, quickly grabbing the damp washcloth she’d prepared for him and holding it in a ball over his lap. Like it’ll hide a damn thing, he thinks miserably as his ears flush fuschia like the rest of his upper body.

“No problem,” Rey replies, and Ben notices for the first time that her cheeks are red, too. And her lips… they’re plump and flushed like summer cherries as her teeth dig into them.

He blinks, fighting the urge to just lean forward and take a taste. Rey’s eyes slip from his down near his chin, then slip back up. She takes a deep breath and blinks, and he watches her face as the spell seems to break. “Now, waddle your scaredy-cat ass over to the couch and make yourself comfortable because you’re watching this movie with me whether you want to or not, Solo.”

 

* * *

 

It’s a little after one in the morning and between the skin melting off his body and memories of Rey, tucked into a ball beside him as she grabbed on to the loose material of his pants in thrilling fear while they watched the movie, Ben can’t sleep.

He’s the only one in the house next door, back in his own bedroom, alone like he was most of his childhood and adolescence. This week his father is in southeast Asia, and his mother is speaking at a conference in Phoenix. At twenty-two, it’s not like Ben needs them home, but considering he sees even less of them now that he’s away at college than he did as a kid, it would be nice to have a little of their company.

But Ben’s used to fending for himself, and he’s used to making up for his loneliness with the family next door. He’s got years of practice, spending time with his pseudo-parents and pretend siblings. Except right now, Rey feels like anything but a sister.

He can’t stop thinking about her hands on his chest, and lower, as she applied the aloe… the way she spoke soothingly to him, almost cooing as she gently worked the canvas of his body. He can’t get the feeling of her hand squeezing the material at his thigh tight, the heat of her palm right beside his skin, awakening the heat in his groin as they watched the atrocities unfold onscreen.

Ben will never understand Rey’s obsession for freaking herself out with horror films, but if suffering through them means she’ll touch him -- even just his damn pants -- it might just all be worth it. He sighs, the sound gusty and heavy in his quiet bedroom, the only other noise is that of the fan he’s got turned on full-speed on the bed stand beside him, aimed directly on his upper body.

No. He can’t think about Rey like that. It’s dangerous territory.

Okay, he can think about it, but only in like a fantasizing, not real way. He can’t really want her -- not like that. It’s risky and wrong.

Except it doesn’t feel wrong.

As he closes his eyes and pictures her freckles and her cherry lips and her blush, and he remembers the way his heart surged and thudded in his chest like he’d just run a marathon at the sight of her and the feel of her hands on his skin… well, it feels completely right. Ben sighs again and shifts, the movement making his burning skin send pain twisting in his gut.

“Shit,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut with frustration. He can’t sleep because he’s either thinking about the horrible movie and those psycho killers pretending to be the kids’ grandparents or he’s getting a boner thinking inappropriate thoughts about Rey.

He reaches for his phone and flicks the screen to life with his thumb. Maybe he’ll play chess until his eyes fall out of his head. Except he doesn’t open the chess app. His finger goes to the little green bubble icon, and he’s typing a message to Rey before he can even process what the hell he’s doing.

 

**Ben:** are you awake??   
  
**Rey:** yeah   
  
**Ben:** i'm freaking myself out   
  
**Ben:** thinking about that crazy movie   
  
**Rey:** why don't you think about me instead   
  


Jesus, that’s not what he was expecting. His eyes are saucers as he stares at his phone screen, breath coming quickly as his pulse begins to stutter and shake in his chest. There’s so many things he could say in reply… but he goes with the simplest truth and hopes he can make it fit in whatever strange turn this conversation just took.

**Ben:** well   
  
**Ben:** now i am   
  
REY IS TYPING...

The three little dots indicating Rey’s impending reply appear on his screen immediately. Just as quickly, Ben begins brainstorming all the ways in which he can backpedal right out of this topic if Rey seems weirded out by his honesty. He could really make the reply as benign as he needs to, even though the way his skin is prickling with excitement as he awaits her reply is about a million miles and a sharp turn away from innocent.

REY IS TYPING... **Rey:** good  
  


Good? What the fuck does that mean?

He stares silently at his phone screen, waiting for divine intervention or anything at all guide his next actions. Should he say what he’s thinking? Because if the answer is yes, well he’ll be texting something on the verge of pornography back to Rey.

His pal and neighbor, Rey. His best friend’s little sister, Rey.

What the fuck am I doing? Ben thinks with a whimpering sigh. This cannot end well.

He’s lost in his downward spiral of thoughts when his phone pings in his palm. His eyes are saucers as he takes in Rey’s follow up message.

 

**Rey:** i think you should think about me   
  
**Rey:** because i've been thinking about you   
  
**Rey:** a lot   
  


Ben’s pulse is pounding in his throat and his chest feels tight and his dick is swelling as blood rushes south and for the life of him he doesn’t understand how all this could be happening at the same time. He blinks at his screen, realizing he supposes he now knows what Rey meant when she typed “good.” Frankly, that might be the only thing Ben knows at this moment in time because he’d be hard pressed to remember his own damn name, he’s so torn up inside by this development.

His finger hovers over the glass of his screen as Ben’s plush bottom lip tucks under his teeth. Should he type the words begging to breach his lips? Should he demur and let Rey down gently and avoid the inevitable disaster that this kind of exchange will abso-fucking-lutely lead to?

Fuck it. He knows he can’t let this die. It’s like he’s caught at the end of a string. He’s already plucking at the letters on his screen.

 

**Ben:** me too   
  
**Rey:** yeah?   
  
**Ben:** the other night in the pool...   
  
**Ben:** what the fuck is happening   
  
**Rey:** lol   
  


Lol? That’s what she types as he’s spilling his guts here, admitting he’s been having inappropriate thoughts about someone who’s been like a little sister to him for the better part of a decade?

**Ben:** i don't find this funny   
  
**Rey:** isn't it just a little bit funny?   
  
**Ben:** no Rey...   
  
**Ben:** popping a random boner isn't funny   
  
**Rey:** do you have one right now??   
  
**Ben:** what kind of question is that   
  
**Rey:** just wondering   
  
**Rey:** and if you do... is it bc of me?   
  


Ben hesitates. If he answers honestly, there’ll be nothing he can do to take back or try to make excuses to cover up his admission. If he skirts the question or flat-out lies… well, the amazing feeling bubbling behind his rib cage right now stands a good shot of fizzling into nothing. And those dreams that send him to sleep at night with a longing, hopeful smile on his face? Forget it. He’d be shutting them down, right here, right now.

That’s what he should do.

Ben’s brain knows this like it knows to pull his hand away from a burning hot stove.

But his heart… well. His heart’s a different story altogether. Because just the thought of opening this door between them… even the tiniest chance that by saying the right thing now will pry it open further and open something between them that he’s frankly feeling desperate for…

It’s everything.

Fuck it, he thinks. Ben’s skin’s already burning. What damage could a hot stove do to him tonight?

He licks his lips. They’re dry and chapped from the sun. His tongue feels thick and hot in his mouth. Sweat beads on his sternum.

With shaking fingers, he starts to type, sneering Rey’s question. Because he’s tenting his boxers and it’s all for her. Always for her.

 

**Ben:** yes and yes   
  


The three little dots appear and Ben’s heart is in his throat. He feels his whole large body thrum with his heartbeat, feels his body even as it lies still on his mattress throb with a pulsing, anxious energy as his blood rushes through his veins.

**Rey:** good   
  


Ben reads her reply and emits a sound somewhere between a moan and a groan. Again with “good”? What does she mean?

He can’t take it. He has to know.

 

**Ben:** you like that?   
  
**Rey:** yeah   
  
**Ben:** why   
  
**Rey:** because you make me ache   
  
**Rey:** only fair   
  


“Oh my God,” Ben stutters aloud, voice cracking, reading her words.

**Ben:** what are we doing   
  
**Ben:** what is even happening right now   
  
**Rey:** show it to me   
  


Ben’s heart stops for a second. When it beats again his body lurches, his stomach muscles contracting and jumping despite the way he lies prone on his bed. The beads of sweat on his chest join forces and trickle down his ribs in a rivulet of what-the-actual-fuck.

He starts to type something but hesitates. Ben doesn’t know what to do here. This is… well. This is something he’s never done before with anyone. This is crossing a line. This is evidence.

“Hooo-kay,” Ben breathes out, lips quivering. His whole body is fucking trembling like a leaf right now. “We’re not kids anymore,” he mutters to himself, trying to weigh out his options here. “We’re both adults, just exploring an attraction to one another,” he rationalizes.

 

**Rey:** stop overthinking this Solo   
  


Jesus, she can see right through him. She’s not a tiny yard and an exterior wall away. Despite the mere yards between their two physical beings, it’s like she’s in his fucking head.

**Rey:** i wanna see what i do to you   
  


He hisses out a tiny “fuck,” barely more than a hot exhale spilling from his trembling lips.

Ben slips his free hand beneath the elastic band of his boxers and shoves the material down. The cotton, normally soft, feels like sandpaper against the sunburned skin of his lower thighs as the band catches the line where his swim trunks ended and the sun left its mark, inches above his knees. He winces and quickly shucks the garment off completely, kicking them off the edge of his bed onto the floor. His chest rises and falls in an erratic staccato as he glances down at his cock, now fully hard, the head turning a dark, eager red.

Taking himself in hand, Ben looks through the camera on his phone to see how he should frame this, exactly. He’s never sent a dick pic in his life. As he’s staring his phone vibrates in his other hand with another incoming message from Rey.

 

**Rey:** hello???   
  


"Hi," he types sloppily, fingers shaking.

**Rey:** please Ben   
  


And that’s it. That’s all it takes for his normal brain to shut off and his hind brain to kick in. He’s switching back to his camera and clicking a picture of his cock weighing heavily in his open palm and sharing it with Rey in mere seconds.

 

It’s done. He can never take it back. He swallows thickly and closes his eyes, afraid he might pass out with the way his heart beats so fiercely and erratically beneath the cage of his chest.

It takes less than three seconds for Rey to reply.

 

**Rey:** holy shit   
  


And it takes less than three seconds for Ben’s panic to fully set in and his normal brain to choose this moment to take lead once again.

**Ben:** sorry   
  
**Ben:** you can delete it   
  
**Ben:** pretend this never happened   
  
**Rey:** what   
  
**Rey:** why   
  
**Ben:** you're practically my sister   
  
**Rey:** shut up   
  
**Rey:** i am SO NOT your sister   
  


Her fiery texts make his lips tug into a smile.

**Ben:** okay you're definitely not my sister   
  
**Rey:** thank god   
  


Ben doesn’t know what she means. He agrees wholeheartedly, whatever it is, though. So he just types a series of question marks, hoping she’ll expound on that a little more.

He waits a few minutes that feel like interminable hours, but he gets no reply. His cock twitches in his hand but as fear creeps icily through his chest, the stiffness dissipates and Ben’s mood is shifting rapidly from horny to horrified.

 

**Ben:** Rey?   
  
**Ben:** you there?   
  
**Ben:** just delete it   
  
**Ben:** pretend it never happened   
  
**Ben:** REY   
  
**Ben:** i'm sorry   
  


**Rey:** no   
  
**Rey:** i'm back   
  
**Rey:** sorry   
  
**Ben:** wtf   
  
**Ben:** i'm having a heart attack   
  
**Rey:** sorry   
  
**Rey:** i was trying to take a picture for you   
  
**Rey:** but i didn't like any of them   
  
**Ben:** what could there possibly be not to like   
  
**Rey:** you tell me   
  


And then an image appears in their chat, and Ben’s eyes go wide. He’s staring at Rey’s golden chest, the triangle shape where her bikini top usually sits marking the transition from tan to pale, milky skin in sharp contrast. And there, in the center of the creamy expanse, two dusty rose tips, pebbled and straining toward the camera.

Ben’s mouth pools as his entire body clenches in desire. His cock is back to standing at attention. In fact, it might never stop saluting her because she’s... she’s fucking perfect.

 

**Ben:** you're perfect   
  
**Rey:** so are you   
  


Ben’s pulse is pounding, his chest feeling near to bursting. He wants to climb out his window and jump barefoot and naked into the cool grass between their two houses, make his way up to Rey’s room next door and worship every inch of her body. He wants to fall asleep with her in his arms even though the mere thought of his sunburned skin touching anything makes him whimper in pain. He doesn’t care. He’d suffer an eternity if he could just stop this infantile fantasizing that’s taken over his mind day and night for weeks and just be with her already.

His rapid-fire musings halt as another message pops onto his screen.

 

**Rey:** goodnight Ben ❤️    
  


The heart emoji softens the blow a bit, but the whiplash of Ben’s emotions leaving him feeling a little confused and even worried. What will it be like when he sees Rey tomorrow?

Then, one last message appears and with it, his anxiety drops down several notches. He feels himself smile as he reads it again:

 

**Rey:** sleep tight good boy    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around! xo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Can't wait to share what happens next... ;)


End file.
